


You and Me and Somehow

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Idiots in Love, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 18:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: Ethan is meeting up with family when a familiar face once again saves him from an uncomfortable situation. Fluff ensues.





	You and Me and Somehow

Ethan sighed deeply as he stood by himself on a busy Boston street corner, looking up at a classy restaurant sign with reluctance. It was early summer and a Friday night, so Ethan could tell that the restaurant was busy, even without looking through the high glass windows at the bustle inside. 

He’d been awarded a few days off work, so he had made sure to stop by Massachusetts to visit his family. His parents, as well as his brother and his family, had migrated to Boston, which made a more or less spontaneous family visit all the easier. 

Ethan had been looking forward to seeing everyone, especially since it had been more than a year since he’d last had a chance to, but he also knew he would be fielding questions about his own state of affairs approximately three minutes after walking through those doors. He had already had a long week, and fielding questions from his parents was never easy, no matter how old you are.

Daring a glance at his watch, he noticed he was already several minutes late, and delaying the inevitable any further would not make it any easier. Biting the metaphorical bullet, he took one last deep breath, straightened his jacket, and marched to the door. Chatter and the sound of clinking tableware reached his ears as soon as he pulled the door open.

He motioned toward the waiter that he would join an occupied table and he gave a nod of understanding, hurrying on to serve another customer. Ethan cast a glance around the place and soon enough spotted his family at a table in the opposite corner. His mother had already spotted him and was waving him over, happy excitement on her face. Ethan couldn’t help but smile fondly at her. At seventy-five and seventy-eight, respectively, his mother and father were still healthy and sturdy, and too stubborn to be anything else. 

He hurried over to the table and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his mother‘s head, squeezed his dad‘s shoulder as he passed by his seat and shared a warm smile with his brother and his wife. 

“Great that you could make it, Ethan,“ his father enthused, as Ethan took his seat. “We know how busy you are.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it, Dad,” he answered, taking the second-to-last seat at the round table. 

“Still too busy to find yourself a woman, however? Don’t get me wrong, your father and I have given up hope for grandchildren from you long ago, but it’s never too late to settle down, honey.” His mother inquired, not very subtly. 

_And here we go _, he thought. Ethan sighed. “Ma…”

“I know, I know, you’re old enough to make your own choices, but I can’t help but worry.”

She motioned to the opposite side of the table, where his brother was trying not to laugh. “Look at Michael, he's happy! I just want you to be happy, too, honey.”

“I _am _happy, mother.” 

“Are you? All you do is work, and you never even talk about that with us. I just don’t want you to end up like your uncle Adam, he worked his entire life and ended up without any friends or hobbies, or even a pet.”

“I have friends, don’t worry, Ma.”

“You do? Ooh, splendid, can we meet them? How about Thanksgiving? You can invite all of them over, we have more than enough room!”

Ethan cast a half-hearted glare at his brother, whose shoulders were shaking with mirth by now, and sighed again. 

Meanwhile, at the bar close-by, another person was having a hard time trying to keep the laughter at bay. With her back to the family’s table, and Ethan’s line of sight going in the opposite direction, she had managed to stay undetected so far and was loath to give up on her unexpected entertainment just yet. 

Eventually, however, she took pity on him and slid off her seat. She made her way towards the back exit, undetected, only to re-enter the establishment through the front door two minutes later, deliberately a little out of breath. Making her way towards the intended table, she smoothly slid into the empty seat beside Ethan and pressed a kiss to his cheek in greeting, giving him a wink. His surprise at seeing her so unexpectedly turned to relief as understanding dawned on him. 

“I’m so terribly sorry I’m late, darling, traffic was a nightmare! I hope I didn’t miss too much?”

“Not at all, love,” Ethan smoothly played along, gently grasping her left hand which was resting on the table. “Mother was just telling me how I finally needed to settle down.”

“Is that so? I do hope you told her that you’re well on your way to do just that?”

Ethan grinned, suddenly elated, and shrugged. “I was trying to, but you know how mothers sometimes don’t let you get a word in, bless them,” he teased and winked at his mother, who was too busy staring at the new woman at the table to notice. 

“Ethan…,” she finally said, swallowing and tearing her eyes away from the unfamiliar young woman, in order to give her son a look. “Why don’t you introduce us to our guest?”

“Certainly, mother,” he said happily, ignoring his family’s questioning stares. “This is Ilsa Faust, my girlfriend.” Ilsa noticed the slightest hesitation before he used the term as if he couldn’t decide on which description to use, but she was sure no one else would detect it if you weren’t trained to do so. 

“Ilsa,” he continued and motioned towards each member of his family respectively, “this is my mother, Marianne, my father Thomas, my brother Michael, and his wife of fifteen years, Sophia.”

Ilsa put on her most charming smile. “It is _so _lovely to finally meet you all! By your surprise, I can tell that Ethan has neglected to mention that he was bringing anyone along. I apologize if my presence has taken you by surprise, but I’m afraid I’m as much to blame for this turn of events as Ethan is, seeing as my being here was decided by a simple stroke of luck and good fortune,” she said smoothly, not uttering a single word that wasn’t true. 

“Oh nonsense, no need to apologize!” Thomas said. “We’re happy to have you here and to get to meet you at all! Lord knows, Marianne was well on her way to just arrange a marriage for this one,” he joked and Ilsa laughed. 

“Thomas, really,” his wife admonished him, her cheeks acquiring a dusting of redness. 

“Perhaps we should let him meet this potential wife first and let him decide if he still wants me after,” Ilsa offered with a smirk. 

“Don’t you dare!” Ethan exclaimed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as if to stop her from following through with it at once. “She once tried to set me up with our neighbor’s daughter, who _clearly _wasn’t interested in me, so ever since I don’t trust her to offer sound judgment in that regard.”

“Oh geez, I forgot all about that!” Michael laughed. “You were, what, sixteen years old?”

“Yep.”

“Millie clearly wasn’t into you.”

“I know, or any boy for that matter.”

Michael nodded. “We all knew that.”

“Except mother.”

“Yup.”

The brothers shared a mirthful laugh. 

“Wait,” Marianne interrupted, confused, “what do you mean, _wasn’t interested in any boy _?”

The table shared a laugh and Michael offered to let his mother in on the “secret”.

Half an hour later, over delicious food and drinks, the group was having a lively discussion about whether pineapple belongs on pizza or not, and Ilsa cast a glance at the man beside her. She had rarely seen Ethan Hunt this relaxed and at peace and she found that it suited him immensely, judging by the butterflies doing loops in her belly. 

Ethan’s head turned, feeling her eyes on him, and he gave her a questioning look, a half-smile playing on his lips. “What?” He murmured. 

Ilsa returned his smile and shrugged, a little sheepish at having been caught staring. “You look very handsome tonight, is all.”

She watched, fascinated, as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed heavily.

Seemingly on its own accord, his left hand reached up and softly tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, the backs of his fingers trailing over her cheekbone as he pulled back. 

Ilsa almost forgot how to breathe, as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against her temple. 

“God, I love you,” Ethan murmured in her ear, yet still loud enough to let his voice carry across the table. Ilsa tried hard to ignore the goosebumps caused by his words and hummed in the back of her throat. 

“Mh, I know.” 

Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them, an understanding that their words weren’t just for show, that they were real and had been waiting a long time to be spoken aloud. 

Ilsa smiled and pressed a gentle kiss against his welcoming lips, a barely-there touch, a feather-light brush of lips against lips. “I love you, too,” she murmured against them as she pulled back to once again meet his eyes. 

Unadulterated happiness shimmered in his eyes and Ilsa felt a comfortable warmth settle in her chest. 

“Oh my Gosh, you guys are so adorable!” Sophia gushed from the other side of the table, effectively breaking the moment. 

Ilsa and Ethan shared a small laugh and pulled back out of their bubble to rejoin the others in the real world. 

“So adorable it’s almost sickening,” his brother teased with a smirk. “Never seen you like that, big brother.”

Ethan shrugged. “Never felt like this either,” he said almost nonchalantly, and Ilsa’s pulse quickened at his admission, the sudden need to get him alone almost overwhelming. 

She certainly hadn’t been expecting this turn of events when she had decided to save his butt from an uncomfortable situation yet again. 

Not that she was complaining.

Ilsa subtly cleared her throat, before shooting Ethan a smile. “You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, I’ll give you that.”

Ethan gave her a faux-relieved look. “Is it working? Oh, good.”

Ilsa laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you love me anyway,” he grinned, but Ilsa could still detect the question, a last shred of doubt, hiding in his eyes. 

Her smile softened and she nodded in answer. “Sure do.”

Once more, the pure joy in his eyes almost blinded Ilsa with its intensity and she had to force herself to blink and turn back to finish her food, already almost gone cold. 

The rest of their dinner passed with casual conversation and laughter until eventually, they finished their drinks and paid the check. 

On the way out, Ethan pulled her aside and whispered, “I hope this evening didn’t ruin any plans you might have had.”

“Don’t worry, it actually really improved my evening. I was waiting for a source, but apparently he got cold feet. Will have to track him down again, but not tonight.”

“Well, lucky me.” He said, but his eyes also told her that he was sorry about the extra effort she now had to go to. 

Ilsa smiled. “Lucky _us _.” They stepped outside into the slight evening chill and rejoined the others. 

“It was great to finally meet you all,” she said, turning to face Ethan’s family. 

“You too, dear!” His mother said. “Let’s not wait so long to do this again, yes?”

“Not if I can help it,” Ilsa agreed with a smile. 

The Hunts all exchanged hugs with her and then stepped aside to give Ilsa and Ethan a moment alone. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ethan spoke quietly, voice gravelly and warm, making Ilsa shiver. He noticed and gave her a heated look, yet continued to speak as if nothing had happened. “They would have bugged me endlessly if you hadn’t shown up and besides,” he stepped closer still, allowing his hands to drift up and down her arms, “it was fantastic to see you again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she admitted and pressed closer against his chest, her hands coming to rest on his hips, beneath the light jacket he was wearing. “I’ll be in town for a few more days, why don’t you come find me in my hotel when you can.” Her breath ghosted across his cheek and he nodded, barely noticing how she slipped a card into his back pocket, too busy staring at her lips that were slowly drifting closer to his own. 

She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips and he wanted nothing more than to pull her fully into his arms and deepen the kiss, but before he could move, she had already stepped out of his embrace, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Have a good night, honey.”

“Tease,” he sighed, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. 

Her musical laugh filtered towards him as she turned and waved at him over her shoulder, before making her way over to her parked car, heels clicking softly on the concrete. 

His eyes followed her form as she opened the door and gracefully slipped into the driver’s seat, before a moment later, the car peeled away with a soft hum. 

Ilsa’s laughter was exchanged for his brother’s a moment later, as he stepped over and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”

He could only nod in agreement. 

*

It was safe to say that Ethan showed up at her hotel room at 8 pm on the dot the next evening, with a bottle of champagne and a bouquet of red roses in his hands. 

It was also safe to say that they didn’t leave her hotel room for the next sixteen hours. 

*

Eleven days later, Ilsa was tinkering on her bike, hands covered in motor oil when her phone rang. Sighing, she hurriedly wiped her hands on an old rag and then went looking for her phone, which she eventually retrieved from under her toolbox. How it had ended up there, she had no idea and wasn’t particularly interested in finding out either. 

She glanced at the caller ID and already felt a smile beginning to form on her lips. 

“Hello, stranger,” she answered and took a seat on a creaky old chair that was at least as old as the garage itself, giving the person on the other end of the line her full attention. 

“Hi yourself,” Ethan said, and she could hear a mirroring smile in his own voice. 

“Miss me already?” She teased and Ethan chuckled. 

“Would it go straight to your head, if I said yes?”

“Nothing ever goes to my head, darling,” she joked, and then added, “but it is nice to hear, regardless.”

“I haven’t actually said it yet, you know.”

“It was heavily implied, and anyway, we both know it.”

He sighed in fake defeat. “You’re right, of course.”

Ilsa’s smile deepened and they remained silent for a moment, just breathing in synch and enjoying the lighthearted moment. 

“So, why I called…”

“What, you have an ulterior motive for this call, not just because you missed the sound of my voice? I’m shocked, Ethan,” she deadpanned, making him laugh once more.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing your voice, love, but anyway-”

“You want to know what I’m wearing?”

She heard him swallow heavily before he resolutely ignored her second interruption and continued, “It’s my father’s birthday next week, and they absolutely insist that I bring you with me, so neither of us have any choice in the matter, apparently.”

Ilsa bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely. “No choice, huh? Usually, I’d say we’ll see about that, but since it’s your parents, and I like them, I’ll most certainly see if I can squeeze in a visit to Boston next week. Being a freelance agent does have its perks.“ 

“I knew you had a soft spot for them.”

“For the whole family, it would seem.”

“You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“So, Friday next week, let me know where you’re staying and I’ll come pick you up at seven.”

Ilsa hummed in agreement and made a mental note to squeeze in some shopping for some nice new clothes. 

“Now, about that other thing,” Ethan murmured and the tone of his voice let Ilsa know what he was going to say before he actually said it. She smirked. “What _are_you wearing?”

She laughed and settled more deeply into her chair. 

This was going to be fun.

*

When the knock on her hotel room door came, he was fifteen minutes early, and Ilsa smiled.

As she had expected.

She quickly finished putting on her necklace, before striding to the door and swinging it open, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

“Impatient, are we?”

He gave her a heated stare and marched through the doorway, quickly closing the door behind him. “You better believe it,” he growled and pressed her against the nearest wall, a second before his lips pressed against hers. 

Ilsa gasped in pleasant surprise at his impatience and then just as urgently returned his kiss. It had been almost three weeks since they had last seen - and touched - each other, and Ilsa almost doubted they’d make it to the party on time. 

In the end, they were only ten minutes late, the wrinkles in Ilsa’s dress, and the tiny stain of lipstick on Ethan’s collar the only evidence of what they’d been up to half an hour earlier. 

Ethan’s parent’s house was packed when they arrived, laughter and music filtering through the open front door and onto the street. It was a quaint and lovely neighborhood in a Boston suburb and it seemed that all the closest neighbors had been invited. 

They stepped through the doorway and Ilsa could tell he was suppressing a groan. 

“What?” She whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“Seems my whole family is here as well,” he whispered back, while still keeping a smile intact. “Didn’t really need to see my cousin, he’s...not very friendly to a lot of people. Especially if they don’t look and sound American enough if you get what I mean.”

“Ah.” Ilsa’s brow furrowed slightly before her mask was back in place. “Should be fun, then.”

“Mhh. Shall we?”

Ilsa nodded and gave him an encouraging smile, and together they stepped further into the room, which drew some attention. 

“Ethan, my boy!” His father bellowed as soon as he spotted him, and made his way through the crowd towards his son. “So glad that you could make it!” He pulled him in for a hug. 

“Happy Birthday, Dad,” Ethan said, and handed him a wrapped present, the bow only slightly crooked, Ilsa noted. A slight mishap during a short, but intense, makeout session outside in the car. 

“Thanks, son!” Thomas said and turned towards Ilsa with a large smile, pulling her into a hug, too. “Ilsa! I am so happy that you could make it as well and indulge an old man.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Thomas! I’m happy to be here,” she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “And happy birthday!”

“Well, come in, come in!” He urged them, ushering them further into the house. “Have some food and drinks. I’m sure your mother is around here somewhere.” He took a quick glance around the room. “Let me go find her,” he said and vanished into the crowd. 

Ethan shook his head at his father’s antics, a smile tugging on his lips. He turned towards Ilsa and gently grasped her hand. “Come on, let’s go find that food.”

She nodded, and they wove their way through the crowd, Ethan nodding his hello to familiar faces on the way, and towards the kitchen, where plates full of various snacks, bowls of soup, and fresh salads had been laid out. They each got a plate and a selection of snacks, before making their way back into the heart of the house and towards the terrace, where fairy lights had been strung around the porch, giving it a warm glow. Candles in jars had been scattered throughout the small garden at the back, the atmosphere almost magical. 

“This is lovely,” Ilsa sighed happily and leaned into Ethan’s side as he slung an arm around her waist. 

“Yes, it is. I haven’t been here in ages, and this is really nice to come back to.” He squeezed her hip gently and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Especially with you by my side.”

“Careful, or you’re in danger of turning into a hopeless romantic,” she teased but turned her head to press a lingering kiss against his lips. “I like it,” she whispered. 

Ethan smiled against her lips and deepened the kiss, uncaring who saw them, before he pulled back eventually, just in time for a familiar voice to speak up.

“Will you manage to pull yourself away from your girlfriend long enough to say hi to your little brother, or what?” Michael and his wife grinned at them as Ethan and Ilsa both turned around, biting their lips to keep from laughing at having been caught making out like teenagers. 

“If I must,” Ethan said and sighed theatrically, before grinning widely and pulling his brother and sister-in-law into a hug. “Good to see you.”

“You too, man,” Michael said, smiling at Ilsa as well. “Both of you.” Sophia nodded in agreement, smiling. 

“Have you seen mother?” Ethan asked, and his brother nodded. 

“She was right behind me but got held up by the Peterman’s. You know how they like to gossip, especially after they saw you step through the door with a woman on your arm.” He looked chagrined, before he added, “And a younger woman at that, too.”

Ilsa just rolled her eyes. “The difference isn’t _that _big, really.“

Before anyone could say anything else, Marianne stepped onto the terrace, followed by an older couple and who Ilsa assumed to be the Petermans. 

“Ethan, Ilsa! Oh my, I’m so happy you really made it!” She exclaimed joyfully, pulling both of them in for a quick, but heartfelt, hug. 

“So are we, mother,” Ethan smiled, before almost hesitantly turning to face the Petermans. 

“Jennifer, Mitch, good to see you guys again, how have you been?”

“You too, Ethan! Oh, we’re good. Same old, same old,” Mitch said, his eyes going to Ilsa almost as soon as the last syllable had left his lips. “And you are?”

Ilsa repressed a sigh and instead put a smile on her face. “I’m Ilsa, nice to meet you.” Her hand reached out to shake his, and he took it eagerly. 

“What a pleasure to meet you, Ilsa,” Mitch enthused overly sweetly and Ilsa already wanted to vomit. “We’ve heard so much about you, it’s so good to finally put a face to it all.” His grin widened almost obscenely and his eyes tracked over her. “And what a face it is!”

For a guy gossiping about younger women, he sure seemed to like them, Ilsa thought and not so subtly retrieved her hand from his grip. She pointedly turned back to Marianne, who was looking on with slight horror on her face, while she could feel Ethan tense behind her. Her now free hand gently grasped his and tangled their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze. 

“Have you put all of this together, Marianne? The garden looks fantastic!”

“Oh, thank you, dear! I have to admit my granddaughter helped me plenty. She’s got a good eye for these things.”

“That’s so nice. Is she here? I’d love to meet her.”

“Unfortunately not. She fell sick two days ago and is recuperating in bed. I’m sure she would have loved to meet you as well!”

“I do hope she’ll feel better soon. Please tell her what a great job she did.”

Marianne smiled warmly and nodded. “She’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jennifer drag Mitch away, scolding him under her breath, and Ilsa had to suppress a smirk. 

Her relief didn’t last too long, however, when she heard another booming voice emerge over the crowd, shortly followed by a stout looking, almost bald, red-faced man in his fifties. 

Ethan groaned. “My cousin,” he warned her quietly, and Ilsa’s defense rose instantly. 

“Yo, Ethan,” the man shouted, and they all cringed, as they watched him push his way through the crowd and outside onto the porch. “That a British accent I hear? What have you dragged in off the streets this time?”

Despite having been warned about the man’s world views, Ilsa’s eyebrows still rose into her hairline in disbelief. Beside her, Ethan growled quietly, making Ilsa’s baser instincts shiver in delight. 

“Ronald,” Ethan spat, but Ronald didn’t even notice. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” he said, casting a passing glance over his cousin before his eyes settled on Ilsa, disgust barely hidden in his gaze. 

“This the Brit?” He asked and then continued in the same breath. “Doesn’t look like one.”

Ilsa’s eyebrow rose once more, becoming very comfortable with its position near her hairline. She was loathe to engage with this man, but she still couldn’t help but ask, “And what does a Brit look like, do you imagine?”

Ronald made a face. “Red-haired and red-faced, for one.”

“It seems you’ve got the red-faced part down way better than I do.”

Marianne barely held in a snigger, while Ronald’s face became even redder. He sputtered, his spit barely missing Ilsa. “What, you...I can’t believe...how _dare _...fucking immigrants!”

“I hate to point it out to you, Ronald, I really do,” she replied smoothly, voice like honey, “but you’re _all _immigrants to this country. And just for your information, I don’t live here. That makes you the only immigrant between the two of us.”

“Bitch!” He mumbled and promptly turned around, pushing his way back inside the house. 

“What a _delightful _little man!” Ilsa exclaimed cheerfully and took a gulp of her beer. “Never meeting him again will be too soon.”

“We barely tolerate him, but he keeps showing up to these things anyway,” Ethan’s brother said. “You handled him remarkably well, though, Ilsa. I’m impressed.”

“I'm even more impressed you didn’t end up punching him in the face,” Ethan added, looking like he barely resisted going after him and doing just that. 

Ilsa shrugged. “Would have been a waste of energy. And I didn’t really feel inclined to touch him in any way, shape, or form, to be completely honest.”

“We can all relate to that, trust me,” Sophia said, a long-suffering look on her dark complexion. 

“Cheers,” Ilsa said, and the two women clinked their beer bottles together, silently commiserating about having to endure stupid, racist and xenophobic people. 

“So,” Michael asked, eager to get back to more pleasant topics of conversation, “do you guys have any further plans for this weekend?”

A mischievous smile crept onto Ilsa’s lips as she threw a glance at Ethan, who raised his eyebrows in a silent question. “I’ve got an idea, yes, but we’ll have to see if Ethan is up to the challenge.”

Sophia laughed. “I’m almost afraid to ask because the answer could either be decidedly dirty, or totally PG13.”

Ilsa smirked. “I like how you think.”

“Thanks,” Sophia grinned back, and their partners shared a look that spoke volumes. 

“In this case, however, I have a totally PG13 version in mind.” Ilsa took a sip of her drink to prolong the suspense, before she continued, “It involves a plane, high altitude, and a couple of parachutes.”

“Holy shit,” Michael breathed, and his mother smacked his arm lightly, scolding his language without actually saying anything. He rubbed the spot absentmindedly.

“What have I missed?” Ethan’s father asked as he appeared on the terrace, having seen his wife’s reaction. 

“Just some bad language, honey.”

“Ah,” he said and warmly put an arm around his wife, pressing a kiss to her temple. “No matter how old they get, you’ll never stop trying to educate them in proper language, will you?”

“You bet your ass I won’t,” Marianne smirked, and everybody laughed. “But also, Ilsa was just telling us about her plans to take Ethan skydiving this weekend.”

Thomas chuckled. “Would you look at that, looks like our Ethan finally found someone who’ll give him a run for his money!”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Ethan grinned, eyes twinkling as he gazed at Ilsa beside him. 

“So that’s a yes on the skydiving, then?” Ilsa grinned back at him, already knowing the answer.

Ethan’s grin deepened even further. “You bet your ass.” 

*

_Another day, another mission completed,_ Benji thought and sighed happily as he sunk down into the small couch in their current safe house, reclaiming his seat beside Luther. He handed his friend one of the bottles of beer he had grabbed from the fridge and set down the other three on the table in front of him. 

Brandt was sitting in the chair to his right, hunched over, his arms resting on his knees, while he stared at his phone, browsing the internet. 

Opposite Benji, Ethan was reading a book, looking relaxed and content where he was reclined in the armchair he had claimed for himself earlier this evening. 

Benji had to admit that he was curious about his friend’s sudden shift in behavior. Ethan had always had trouble shifting into a more relaxed state of mind after a mission was done, but the last couple of missions, he had seemingly had no trouble at all, finding that usually so elusive relaxation for himself. 

And Benji really wanted to know what had changed between now and four weeks ago. 

He knew the rest of the team had noticed too, could tell when they were biting their tongues, in order not to blurt out the question burning in all of their minds. 

So far, they had all resisted asking outright, silently deciding that he would tell them himself, whenever he was ready. 

Maybe that time was nearer than they thought, Benji mused, as Ethan’s phone started vibrating with an incoming call, rattling quietly against the table where he had dropped it earlier. 

Benji watched in awe as Ethan glanced up from his book to check the caller ID, and the biggest smile appeared on his lips, as he saw the, apparently familiar, string of numbers. 

That smile radiated with a happiness Benji had never seen from his friend, and that left him breathless. 

Ethan dropped the book down into his lap and reached over to grab his phone. He hurriedly answered the call and then pressed the device against his ear, settling further into the armchair. 

“Hey,” he breathed into the phone, happy and content, and Benji felt like he was intruding on something very private. He shared a glance with his other teammates, who were also staring at Ethan as if he had grown a second head. 

Ethan didn’t even seem to notice, too caught up in the conversation. 

“No, we’re done for today. It went surprisingly smooth this time if you can believe it.”

The person on the other end said something in answer, the volume too low for Benji to make out anything that would help him answer this riddle. 

Ethan laughed at whatever had been said. “Hey, I’m not _that _bad. I do try to keep away from trouble, usually.”

He listened again, a smirk tugging on his lips before a chuckle escaped his throat. “Look who’s talking. Remember that time you made me jump out of a plane with you for fun?”

Ethan’s smile deepened as he listened again. 

“I know, but that’s not the point, is it? The point is, you love to take risks as much as I do. I mean, your favorite method of transportation is the fastest motorcycle you can find.”

He laughed again and nodded in reply, even if the person on the other end of the line couldn’t see him do so. “Trust me, I’m not complaining. It’s hot.”

Beside him, Luther choked, and Benji absentmindedly patted his arm in reassurance. Of what, he wasn’t sure. 

Brandt just stared, open-mouthed. 

“Will I see you this weekend?” Ethan asked, and then seemed to hold his breath while he awaited a reply, only to release it in a quiet relieved sigh, as he apparently got the answer he had hoped for. “Yeah, no problem, I can meet you there. How does 8 pm sound?” He nodded again, still smiling. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

He huffed a laugh. “Will do,” and then his voice softened even further as he finished the call with an “I love you, too.”

Now it was Benji’s turn to stare open-mouthed, not at all having anticipated this turn of events. 

Ethan dropped his phone back onto the table and grabbed his book again. While letting the book fall open, shifting through the pages to find where he had left off, he glanced at his friends. “Ilsa says hi,” he told them nonchalantly and went back to his book. 

Luther choked again, while Benji and Brandt just gaped. 

A moment later, smiles snuck onto all of their faces, as the realization set in that their fearless leader was _happy._

It seemed that even after all this time doing this particular job, some things still managed to surprise them. 

In the best way possible. 

~fin

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, it's been a while! Thanks to the IMF Big Bang, my muse had to get back to work. It was about time, too.  
Hope you enjoyed this work of pointless fluff. ;)


End file.
